A Slice Of Heaven

“I do when I can,” she responded, her expression tense.

“Well, if you don’t lose it, you’re going to get sick and die like Grandma,” Annie said. “And I will not go and live with Dad.” She said it matter-of-factly, but the truth was the possibility terrified her—not of getting to be with her dad, but of her mom dying.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” she answered. “I have no intention of dying anytime soon, and we don’t even know where your father is.”

“I know,” Annie blurted without thinking. “He’s working down in Beaufort and living in some dump.”

Her mom looked stunned. “How do you know that? He sends his support checks through his attorney.”

Seeing the dismay on her mother’s face, Annie immediately felt guilty for keeping her dad’s calls a secret. “He’s phoned once or twice,” she admitted, unwilling to say it had been that many times just in the past couple of weeks. It wasn’t like her mom had ever said she couldn’t talk to him, or even see him if she wanted to. But initially Annie had made such a big deal about not taking his calls or visiting him that she hadn’t wanted to admit it when she’d finally started talking to him. It would have felt as if she were betraying her mom.

“When?”

“While you’re at work. He calls me on my cell phone, mostly.”

“I see,” her mother said, looking suddenly weary.

Annie could tell she wanted to say more, but she just turned and left the room…probably to get something to eat, if Annie knew anything about her. That was exactly why Annie had kept the calls a secret.

“I swear to God, if I could have gotten my hands on Ronnie right that second, I would have strangled him on the spot,” Dana Sue declared to Maddie the next morning in the gym. “I know I’m being ridiculous, that Annie has a right to talk to her dad, but I know he talked her into keeping it a secret.”

“Are you sure about that?” Maddie asked. “Maybe Annie was afraid it would hurt you to know they were talking again.”

Dana Sue scowled. “So now my own daughter’s afraid to be honest with me? Isn’t that great. Just one more giant gap between us. And before you ask, no, I have not set my goals. I was too furious to sit down and think about it last night, and I came straight here first thing this morning. You might as well call Helen and tell her, because I’m not up to her bullying me about it.”

“You need to work off some of that anger,” Maddie said, her tone soothing. “Why don’t you tell me the rest while we walk on the treadmills?”

“I hate the damn treadmill!” Dana Sue snapped. “I’m getting a blueberry muffin. I’ll be out on the patio when you finish being noble.”

Maddie merely sighed. “I’ll come with you.”

After they were seated, Dana Sue picked the blueberries out of the muffin and ate them, managing to leave most of the muffin on the plate. “I know I have no business eating this stuff, so don’t even say it,” she muttered.

“Not saying a word,” Maddie responded mildly.

Dana Sue pushed the plate away. “It’s been two damn years,” she said heatedly. “How can the mere mention of that man still get me so worked up?”

“Do you want an honest answer or was that a rhetorical question?” Maddie asked.

“An honest answer, please.”

“You’re still in love with him.”

“Don’t be absurd!”

Maddie shrugged. “You asked for honesty. Try being honest with yourself. And to be brutally honest, I’d say your reaction last night was just plain jealousy.”

Dana Sue stared at her friend incredulously. “You think I was jealous that my daughter has been talking to Ronnie?”

“Weren’t you?”

She bit back her inclination to snap out a denial, then frowned at Maddie. “You know me too damn well.”

Maddie grinned. “Yes, I do.” She studied Dana Sue for a moment. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. Are you nuts? The man cheated on me. I wouldn’t let him back into my life if he crawled on his knees.”

“Yeah, right,” Maddie murmured, her skepticism plain.

“I have my pride,” Dana Sue added.

“In spades,” she concurred.

“Well, then, you know I mean what I say.”

“I know you want to mean it,” Maddie said. “But if Ronnie Sullivan walked through that door right now, looking all sexy and sassy the way he always did, I wouldn’t want to bet against him.”

Unfortunately, if she was being totally honest, neither would Dana Sue. Fortunately, she doubted she’d ever be put to that test. If Ronnie had even half a grain of sense left in that handsome head of his, he’d never set foot in Serenity again.

Of course, if he’d loved her the way he’d claimed to, he never would have cheated on her. And—this was the kicker she always came back to—he would have stayed and fought for her. Sure, she’d made it plain she didn’t want him here. She’d even had Helen lay down all sorts of ground rules about his having only limited contact with Annie, which the idiot had actually agreed to. He should have known she was reacting in the heat of the moment, making outrageous demands because she was hurt. He knew her better than anyone, even better than Maddie or Helen, which was saying something. He knew she blew sky-high when her temper kicked in, then simmered for a while, then cooled down. But he’d gone anyway. He hadn’t waited around to see if she’d give him a second chance. That had told her all she really needed to know. He’d wanted to go. That was the bottom line.

She’d never admit it to a living, breathing soul, but that was what had hurt more than anything—Ronnie hadn’t loved her enough to stay. And that was his most unforgivable sin of all.

4

Ronnie was sitting in some dive of a bar with Toby Keith in the background singing a song about a “Dear John” note. Every time the singer repeated in a low, sad tone, “She’s gone,” Ronnie thought of Dana Sue. She was gone, all right, and he still didn’t have the first clue about how to win her back. He’d spent two years pondering the problem and, beyond his decision to do something by Thanksgiving, he was no closer to an action plan now than he’d been on the day he’d left Serenity.

Funny that twenty-seven years ago, when his family had moved to Serenity, he’d seen exactly what he needed to do to win Dana Sue’s heart. Even at fourteen he’d noticed how the boys swarmed around her, drawn not only to her long legs and developing chest, but to her easy temperament and laughter. He’d also realized that the only way to stand out from the crowd would be to feign indifference. Sure enough, that had caught her attention. He hadn’t pursued Dana Sue. She’d come after him. He wondered if that technique would work again.

Probably not, he concluded sadly. He’d been gone two years, and as near as he could tell, she wasn’t pining for him. She certainly hadn’t chased after him.

As he continued pondering a strategy, a thirty something woman wearing tight jeans, a low-cut tank top and spike heels slid onto the stool next to him. Her black hair was long and straight and her lipstick was as red as her tank top. She was a stark contrast to Dana Sue’s leggy, wholesome appearance. Most men would have found her sexy, but to Ronnie she was simply trying too hard.

“Hey, sugar, you look like you could use some company,” she said in a low purr that should have set his pulse racing.

He met her gaze, took a long, slow sip of his beer and tried to work up some enthusiasm for whatever she was offering. But pretty as she was, she wasn’t the woman he wanted.

Still, he forced a smile out of sheer habit. “Buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” she said. “A light beer.”

He beckoned the bartender over and placed the order, then swirled his own beer around in the glass, wondering why not one of the women who’d come on to him since his divorce had held any appeal. Maybe what he should have been asking himself was why one woman had managed to sneak through his defenses back when he’d still been very much married. To his everlasting regret, he couldn’t even remember what she’d looked like, or any highlight of their conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” his companion inquired, taking a sip of her beer. “My name’s Linda, by the way. Folks say I’m a real good listener.” She leaned in closer. “Among other things.”

Ronnie gave her another speculative once-over, but the attraction just wasn’t there for him.

“Come on,” she prodded. “Every man has a story he’s just dying to tell.”

“Not me,” he insisted.

“Broken heart, then,” she concluded. “Men hate talking about being dumped.”

“The broken heart wasn’t mine,” he corrected, then thought about it. In the end, his heart had been just as shattered as Dana Sue’s, and he’d had a load of guilt to go along with it.

“What did you do?” Linda asked. “Sleep around on her?”

“Something like that,” he admitted.

“Then I imagine you’ll do it again. Men always do.”

“Is that so?”

“In my experience, anyway.”

Amused by her world-weary attempt at wisdom, he said, “Then you must have real bad taste in men.”

She laughed. “Says the guy I’ve been coming on to for the past five minutes.”

“Like I said, bad taste,” he agreed. “But your luck’s about to change, because I’m going to do you a favor and take off.” He put some bills on the bar, then met her disappointed gaze. “And just so you know, if I ever convince my ex-wife to take me back, she’ll have nothing to worry about. I learned my lesson. She’s the only one for me.”

“You gonna try to sell me some of that swamp land east of here next?”

“Nope. I’m just gonna wish you better luck with the next guy who comes along,” he said, and walked away.

“I wonder if this ex of yours knows she’s a lucky woman,” she called after him.

Ronnie chuckled at that. “I most seriously doubt it, unless she considers herself damn lucky that I’m gone.”

“Then she’s a fool,” his new friend said.

Ronnie shook his head. “No,” he said in an undertone not meant to be heard, “that was me.”

And sometime in the next couple of months, he was going to try to convince Dana Sue of that.

Back in his dingy room at the motel his boss had made a deal with for the out-of-town construction crew, Ronnie checked the time, figured Dana Sue would still be at the restaurant and called Annie on her cell phone. After the first few months of sounding either angry or distant or both, she’d finally let down her guard. They’d almost recaptured the closeness they’d once shared. He treasured these calls and he was pretty sure Annie did, too. He missed his daughter as much as he missed Dana Sue. The months when Annie had frozen him out had taken a real toll on him, but he’d kept calling.

“Dad!” she said eagerly, sounding like her old self. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he lied, then listened to the loud background noise on Annie’s end of the line. “Where are you, baby? It sounds like you’re at a party.”

“Wait a sec. I’ll go in the other room so I can hear you,” she said.

It was suddenly quiet on the other end of the line. “Where are you?” Ronnie asked again.

“At home. I have a few friends over.”

Ronnie might not be in line for any parent-of-the-year awards, but that didn’t sound good. “Isn’t your mom at work?” he asked.

Annie hesitated for a long moment, then said, “Yes, but she said I could have a sleepover tonight. In fact, it was her idea.”

“That’s great,” he enthused, but a vague suspicion that Annie was bending the truth continued to nag at him. He finally put his finger on it and asked, “Didn’t I hear some male voices?”

“Must have been the music,” she said glibly. “How are you, Dad?”

“I’m fine, and don’t try to change the subject, young lady. I seriously doubt your mother would be happy that there are boys over when she’s not there.”

“Ty’s here,” she said excitedly. “You always liked him.”

“Of course I did, but not at home with my daughter and her friends when there’s no adult in the house,” Ronnie said. “Is he the only guy there?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Sweetie, you know that’s not a good idea. Does your mom know about the boys coming by?”

The long silence that greeted the question pretty much answered it. He let it go on, knowing that Annie was incapable of lying to him. She might avoid the truth, but she wouldn’t outright lie.

Eventually she asked, “Are you gonna call Mom and tell her?”

Though she’d tried to sound meek, Ronnie heard the knowing tone in her voice and figured she was counting on him not to do that. He debated surprising her by making the call, but he doubted Dana Sue would be happy about the news or about his being the messenger. Maybe he could settle this himself and save them both a lot of grief.

“You have them out of there in the next five minutes and it’ll be our secret,” he told Annie. “Deal?”

“But, Dad—”

“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

“How will you even know if they’re still here?”

“I suppose I won’t know for sure. But I’m trusting you to keep your word. You going to give it to me, or do I call your mom?”

“I should go ahead and let you call her,” Annie said. “At least it would get the two of you talking again.”

“Okay with me,” he said. “What’s it going to be, kiddo?”

Again, he let the silence build, knowing she was struggling with herself over doing the right thing.

“I’ll tell the boys they have to leave,” she finally said grudgingly. “But we weren’t doing anything wrong, Dad. I swear it. You know Ty always looks out for me. He would never let things get out of control.”

“You had them over without your mom’s permission,” Ronnie said. “You were doing something wrong the second you let them in the door.”

“When did you get so strict?” she grumbled.

“Last five minutes,” he replied, chuckling. “Up till now, you never gave me any reason to think I needed to be strict.”

“If you came home, you’d know what I was up to all the time,” she said.

“I imagine you’d see that as a mixed blessing in no time at all,” he responded.

“Probably,” she admitted, then added, “But it would be worth it, Daddy. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, angel. Now, go send those boys packing. Then you and your girlfriends can talk about them all night long, the way you did when you were a few years younger.”

“Did you and Mom actually listen to us?” Annie asked indignantly.

“Never,” he said piously. “We just interpreted the giggles coming from your room. Those were a dead giveaway, at least to your mom. Don’t forget, she was your age once. There’s not much you could do or think that she didn’t do before you, including breaking the rules.”

“That’s what you think,” Annie muttered.

“What?” he said sharply, not liking her tone.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He sighed and let it go. Long-distance parenting pretty much sucked. “Love you, too, baby. Take care of yourself and give your mom a hug. Just don’t tell her it’s from me.”

“I wish things were different,” Annie said wistfully. “I wish they could go back to the way they were.”

“Me, too. Now, go shoo those boys out before your mom catches them there and we both end up in hot water.”

“’Night, Daddy.”

“’Night, angel.”

Ronnie clung to the phone for a long time after Annie had hung up. She was growing up so fast and he was missing it. Maybe it was his own fault. Maybe he even deserved to be shut out of Annie’s life. According to Helen, Dana Sue had wanted him gone completely from both their lives, but he’d balked at that. He’d demanded visitation rights. What he hadn’t guessed was how hard it would be to get Annie to go along with them. His teenage daughter was every bit as stubborn as her mom, but she, at least, was mellowing.

He realized now what he should have seen two years ago. He didn’t have to let things be that way forever. Dana Sue might not be happy about him moving back to town, but she’d just have to get over it if he and Annie wanted to reestablish their relationship. And while he might not know that much about teenage girls, he knew a whole lot about teenage boys. Annie could use a dad around to keep her from making the kind of mistakes that could ruin her life.

Once again, he resolved to figure out some way to go back to Serenity before he missed out on even more memories.

Dana Sue was ninety percent certain that the car pulling away from her house as she drove up was filled with teenage boys. Cursing under her breath, she turned into the driveway. It was a good thing she’d decided to leave the restaurant half an hour earlier than usual. She was sure Annie must have calculated the boys’ departure based on her usual time for getting home.

When she walked into the kitchen, Sarah regarded her with a startled expression that bore a trace of guilt. With her basic honesty and pale, freckled complexion, she lied poorly and blushed easily. Her cheeks were a telltale rosy pink right now.

“Hi, Mrs. Sullivan,” she said with obviously forced cheer. “Great party. Thanks for letting us stay over.”

“Anytime,” Dana Sue said. “I’m glad Annie decided to make it a big party, instead of just asking you and Raylene. Everyone having fun?”

“Absolutely. We all brought over some CDs and we’ve been dancing. We’ll probably watch a DVD after a while. Annie says you guys have a whole bunch of chick flicks.”

“Our favorites,” Dana Sue confirmed. “Is there enough food?”

“Plenty,” Sarah confirmed. “I can’t remember the last time I stuffed myself with pizza, and those brownies you brought home from the restaurant are fabulous. I’ve had two.”

Dana Sue fought the urge to ask whether Annie had indulged in either the pizza or the brownies. Sarah took it out of her hands.

“You want to know if Annie’s had any, don’t you?” she asked.

Dana Sue nodded. “You know why it matters, don’t you, Sarah? If it weren’t so important, I would never ask you to rat on her. I’m afraid she’s in real trouble.”

“I know. I worry about her, too,” Sarah admitted in a low voice. “I think she’s—”

“Sarah, what’s taking so long?” Annie called out, walking into the kitchen. When she spotted the two of them together, her eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. “Hi, Mom. You’re early. How come?”

“Erik said he could handle things, so I decided to make an early night of it,” Dana Sue said, disappointed that Annie’s untimely interruption had kept Sarah from answering her question. She forced a smile. “Having fun, baby?”

“We’re having a great time, aren’t we, Sarah?”

“The best,” she confirmed, avoiding Dana Sue’s eyes.

“You’re not going to hang out with us, are you?” Annie demanded.

“Of course not,” Dana Sue said, noting her daughter’s flushed cheeks and wondering if that was due to excitement or guilt about the boys who’d been there. “I’m heading upstairs to bed.”

Annie nodded. “Okay, then. Sarah, I’ll help you grab those sodas. Everybody’s hot from dancing.”

Dana Sue waited while the girls took half a dozen cans of diet soda and bottled water from the refrigerator. As they left the room, Sarah glanced back and gave a subtle shake of her head to say that Annie hadn’t been eating along with everyone else. Dana Sue felt like sitting down at the kitchen table and crying.

She’d wanted so badly to believe that all her instincts were wrong, that Annie wasn’t anorexic, after all. She’d watched her so closely for the past year, redoubling her efforts after that fainting spell at Maddie’s reception. But obviously Annie was more clever at hiding her eating disorder than Dana Sue was at detecting it. She could blame it on her schedule, being away from home for too many meals, but she’d tried to supervise Annie’s diet, she really had. She’d insisted she come by the restaurant for dinner. She’d packed nutritious lunches. But the honest-to-God truth was she hadn’t been there to see that every bite went into her daughter’s mouth. As for the obvious signs that Annie was in crisis, she’d obviously been in deep denial.

No more, though. They were going to have to confront this head-on. It was time. Past time. Add in the fact that Annie had apparently had boys over in direct defiance of Dana Sue’s instructions, and tomorrow was going to be a tough day. She and her daughter were going to have a heart-to-heart, and Annie wasn’t going to like the outcome—a visit to Doc Marshall’s office and then being grounded for a month—one bit.

With the music downstairs playing at a deafening volume, Dana Sue finally managed to fall into a restless, troubled sleep around two in the morning. She’d barely closed her eyes, it seemed, when someone started frantically shaking her.

“Mrs. Sullivan, wake up!” Sarah commanded, sounding panicked.

Dana Sue’s eyes snapped open. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Annie,” the girl said, tears streaking down her face. “She’s passed out and we can’t wake her up. Hurry, please.”

Dana Sue tore down the stairs with the sobbing Sarah on her heels. The other girls were kneeling around a prostrate Annie.

“I don’t think she’s breathing,” Raylene said, looking up at Dana Sue with wide eyes. “I’ve been giving her CPR, just the way we learned to in health class.”

“Move,” Dana Sue said, drawing on some inner reserve of calm, even though she was terrified. “Someone call 911, okay?”

“I already have,” one of the girls said, sounding scared.

“Thanks. Keep an eye out for them, please?” Dana Sue said, focusing on Annie’s pale face. Her lips were turning blue and she was still. So damn still. Kneeling beside her, Dana Sue began doing chest compressions as she’d been taught in her own CPR classes, then trying to force breath into her lungs. The girls stood around in stricken silence, holding hands, their faces damp with tears.

Time seemed to stand still as Dana Sue tried desperately to breathe life back into her daughter. She was only dimly aware of the sirens when the ambulance arrived. Then the EMTs were there, forcing her aside, taking over, talking in a code she didn’t understand as they barked information about resting heart rate and other vital signs into a cell phone that apparently linked them to the emergency room. Sarah slipped up beside Dana Sue and clung to her hand.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sarah whispered. “She’s going to be okay.”

Dana Sue squeezed her hand. “Of course she is,” she agreed, though she was certain of no such thing.

Raylene approached. “I called Mrs. Maddox,” she said. “Is that okay? She said she’d phone Ms. Decatur and have her come by and pick us up. Mrs. Maddox is coming straight here to go with you to the hospital.”

Dana Sue gave Raylene a grateful look. “You did exactly the right thing,” she told her, impressed by the girl’s ability to act so quickly in a crisis. She had a cool head and good instincts. “Thank you.”

“We want to go to the hospital with you,” Sarah said. “Can we do that? Our folks aren’t expecting us home, anyway. Please, Mrs. Sullivan. Ms. Decatur can take us there just as easily as she can take us home.”

Dana Sue knew what it was like to wait for information when someone was seriously ill. She’d waited all alone in a hospital emergency room when her mother had been taken in that last time. She’d been only a few years older than these girls were now. Annie had been little more than a toddler, and Ronnie had stayed home with her. Maddie and Helen had rushed over the second Dana Sue had called them, but the wait for them and for news had seemed interminable. Maybe it would be easier for Annie’s friends to wait together at the hospital, where they would have news as soon as it was available.

“Okay,” she said at last. “But as soon as it’s morning, I want you to call your folks and tell them where you are, okay? Then it will be up to them whether you go home or stay.”

“I’m sure Annie will be fine by then,” Sarah said staunchly.

“Of course she will be,” Raylene agreed.

The next half hour was a blur as the EMTs loaded Annie, who was breathing now, but still unconscious, into the ambulance. Helen briskly piled the girls into her car, and Maddie saw to it that Dana Sue pulled herself together, then wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her into her car. She still wore Ronnie’s shirt, but had at least added a respectable pair of jeans.